


under the bearded barley

by mrecookies



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - MAMA (Music Video), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrecookies/pseuds/mrecookies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 kisses, 10 au scenarios (de-aging, cat!sehun, the prince and the frog, rapunzel, leverage, established relationship x2, mall santa, vampires and werewolves, vague mama powers).</p><p>ratings range from g to mature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	under the bearded barley

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled: _because I will never finish a goddamned fic_
> 
> 10 self-indulgent chenhun drabbles with one brief sekaichen for nurul.

 

**1\. deaging au**

Sehun is sitting on a bench in a park and very much not sulking. On the path a few feet from him, five-year-old Jongdae is dancing around with Monggu and laughing his cute, high-pitched, squeaky laugh.

“Nini! Again, again!” squeals Jongdae, clapping his hands, his teeth shining in the sun. He has three teeth missing, but that only makes his smile brighter.

Oblivious to Sehun’s dark mood, Jongin kneels behind Jongdae and holds out the little boy’s hand towards the poodle. Monggu wags his tail and barks, but at Jongdae’s instruction sits firmly on the ground.

“Okay, Dae, now do what you did the last time,” says Jongin. He puts a treat into Jongdae’s chubby hand.

The boy smothers a giggle and solemnly reaches out his closed fists to the waiting poodle. “Which one, Monggu? Thi’ one?” He shakes his left fist, then the right. “Or thi’ one?”

Monggu cocks his head, then taps Jongdae’s right fist with his paw.

“Correc’!” Jongdae crows, and gleefully allows the poodle to snuffle at his fist before giving the dog the treat. “Good doggie, clever Monggu! Hunnie!” he yells, turning to Sehun. “Look wha’ we did!”

“That’s great, Dae,” Sehun replies. He knows he sounds wooden and not at all enthusiastic, it’s just been difficult watching Jongdae give all his attention so easily to Jongin and his pet when Sehun’s been the one taking care of him since he magically became this tiny being.

Jongdae’s face falls for a second before lighting back up. He runs to Sehun, beckoning the man to bend down. Sehun obliges, and then freezes when Jongdae puts slobber-covered hands on his face.

“Muah!” Jongdae says, kissing Sehun on the nose. It’s a hard kiss, more like a firm headbutt to Sehun’s beautiful facial features than anything, but it makes Sehun smile and blush up to his ears. “Good Sehunnie, clever Hunnie,” says the adorable little boy, who uses the two same slimy hands to pat Sehun’s cheeks a few times before running back towards Monggu.

(Jongin doesn’t shut up about it even after Jongdae turns back into an adult the very next day.)

 

* * *

 

**2\. cat au**

“Meow,” says Sehun.

Jongdae lets out a shriek. “What is that? Oh my— _holy shit_ , what the hell? Sehun! Is that supposed to be for me?” he gingerly nudges the dead rat with a socked foot. It flops into the garden.

The white cat meows again, as if to say _yes, you silly human_. Sehun pads over to grab the rat and dump it at Jongdae’s feet. His tail swishes as he blinks up at Jongdae with his large, lazy eyes.

“Thank you, uh, Sehun.” Jongdae reaches over for the oven gloves and picks up the rat. “I’ll enjoy it, I will.”

Sehun eyes him for a moment, then mews and slinks back to the living room. Heaving a sigh, Jongdae quickly wraps the rat in some newspaper and proceeds to wring his hands over the sink because _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck is he supposed to do with a dead rat?_ He uses his phone to Google ‘what to do when your cat brings you a dead rat’ and quickly reads through the articles, because he can feel feline eyes staring at him from the sofa.

“Good kitty,” he says brightly, after following the advice on one of the sites to dispose of the rat. It seems to appease Sehun, who hunkers back down into the cushions. Jongdae washes his hands and goes to sit beside his cat.

“Meow,” says Sehun, batting at his arm. His cat crawls into his lap.

“You’re showing your devotion to me, huh?” whispers Jongdae. He scratches Sehun behind his ears and rubs the cat’s neck gently. “I love you too, you silly cat.”

In response, Sehun rubs his face against Jongdae’s chest and purrs.

 

* * *

 

**3\. the prince and the frog au**

“Noooooo,” Jongdae wails as his favourite plushie starts sinking. He reaches out towards the surface of the pond, but strong arms hold him back. “Chenchen! Chenchen! Noooooo!”

“Jongdae, you can’t,” grunts his older brother. Prince Minseok is eight and the eldest of the four royal Kim sons. “Let the attendants fish it out later.”

“But we’re not supposed to be here alone!” cries six-year-old Junmyeon. Jongin, their youngest brother, giggles in his lap and blows a spit bubble at a passing dragonfly.

Jongdae ignores his brothers and reaches forward again, tears in his eyes as his grey kitty disappears into the murky waters. “Chenchen! I wan’ my Chenchen!”

His sobs catch the attention of a frog resting on a lily pad.

“Don’t cry,” says the frog. “I can help you if you want.”

Minseok shrieks in terror at the talking frog but bravely holds on to Jongdae, who nods so fervently he nearly drops into the pond.

“On one condition,” the frog continues. “In the future, my son will need your help. You will help him as I helped you.”

“We should wait for Mama,” says Junmyeon nervously.

“No, I want my Chenchen! I promise t’ help,” declares Jongdae.

Half an hour later, the Queen fusses over her four missing sons, her nose wrinkling at how her second youngest refuses to let go of a soaking wet kitty plushie. “Jongdae, please let Mama wash it,” she says gently. “I’ll give it back to you tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” The boy hands her the toy reluctantly, but not before she spies the gold ring on his finger.

“What’s this? Where did you get this, my little Dae?” she asks.

“A mama frog gave it to me. She said I had ta help her son ‘cos she helped me get Chenchen back from the pond,” Jongdae replies, yawning. Beside him, his baby brother is already fast asleep.

“You get some rest, my darlings, I’ll talk to your brothers, okay?”

Jongdae blinks, and falls into slumber.

 

—

 

Fourteen years later, Jongdae is sitting in the garden with Jongin when a small frog says hello to him.

“Whoa!” yells Jongin. He pokes the frog, which hops closer to Jongdae on the bench. “It’s like that story Mama used to tell.”

“Are you Kim Jongdae?” the frog asks imperiously.

Jongdae frowns, wanting to deny his identity for a moment, but he figures that the moment he’s been waiting for years is finally here and he can get it done and over with. “Yes,” he says. “Are you the frog I’m supposed to help?”

“Obviously. Do you meet a lot of talking frogs around here?”

Jongin snickers. It’s not even funny.

“Well, I still need some proof.” Crossing his arms, Jongdae squints at the dull brown frog perching on the arm of the bench. “The story’s kind of famous now, how do I know that you’re not some random person who’s trying to trick me into helping you?”

“You lost a grey kitty on your fourth birthday, it was called Chenchen and you dribbled snot all over my mom, does that sound familiar?”

“That’s still kind of generic,” says Jongdae, though he can feel his ears blush pink. He was four! He was a child! Children cry.

“Okay, he’s the baby who accidentally ate a dragonfly,” the frog says, blinking its eyes at a huffy Jongin. “Also, you have my mom’s ring. It has my name written on it, on the underside.”

Jongdae pulls out the chain around his neck and looks closely at the ring. No one knows about the ring. Well, most don’t. No one other than his family knows about the tiny engraving though.

“Oh Sehun, at your service.”

Through the years, the ring has become a source of comfort for Jongdae. He often finds himself running his thumb along the three characters on the erstwhile smooth side of the metal. He knows every ridge by heart.

“Okay.” He swallows. “What do you want?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

Jongin bursts out into laughter.

 

—

 

“I’m not doing it.”

“You made a promise, Dae.”

“Mama, he’s a _frog_!”

“He needs your help, darling. Even if you were only four, it’s binding. It’s not going to be good for you if you refuse.”

Jongdae squirms in his seat. He knows she’s right. He has to kiss the slimy amphibian to turn him back into a human. But _uuuughhh_.

“It’s not like you’re going to marry him, Dae,” the Queen says. She puts an arm around him. “One tiny peck, and you’re free. Do it for your honour, for his mom, for Chenchen, all right?”

“Fine,” Jongdae sighs, and goes off to get Sehun. He picks up the frog from the bench in the garden and locks them both in his room. ”Just one kiss, right?”

“Yes, but on the lips,” Sehun says, sitting on his palm.

Closing his eyes, Jongdae leans forward and—“Mmmmf!”

“Hello, sweet prince,” Oh Sehun says, and his voice seems less croaky, less ribbity. His lips are drier, much less slimy. His hands are cool on Jongdae’s cheeks.

Jongdae’s eyes fly open. “Oh.”

“Sehun, Oh Sehun, that’s my full name,” says the ex-frog. He’s a little taller than Jongdae even though he looks to be as young as Jongin. He has blond hair and dark eyebrows and pale skin and thin lips that curl up smugly.

Sitting in a lopsided sprawl, Chenchen smiles from the nightstand.

 

* * *

 

 

**4\. rapunzel au**

“C’mon, hurry up!”

“I’m not a princess!”

“Yeah, you know what _I_ am not?” yells Jongdae in frustration. He stamps his feet on the ground, not caring if he looks like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “I am not pissing in the bushes one more night! I am going to use your facilities! Do you know how itchy your privates can get when you’re doing your business in the forest, huh? No, you don’t, because you have a nice bathroom up there with plumbing and you don’t have to use suspicious leaves to wipe things and— _ow_!”

“Just grab the rope and shut up,” the voice from the top of the tower says sulkily.

After tying his horse to the gate, Jongdae takes hold of the rope to test its sturdiness. A few tugs reveal that it’s strong enough to take his weight, so he shimmies up the rope as quickly as he can.

“Hello, princess.” He grins at the disgruntled person leaning against the window. “I mean,” he laughs, eying the large scissors in the other’s hand, “not-princess.”

“Bathroom’s over there.” The scissors point to a small door in the corner. “Use the yellow towel when you’re done. I’ll put clothes on the doormat.”

Surprised at the cordiality of his host, Jongdae slips away to the bathroom. He enjoys the facilities for a good ten minutes, then peeks out from behind the door and snatches up the comfortable clothes on the mat. They’re too large for him lengthwise, although the shirt stretches nicely over his chest.

“So what’re doing up here, not-princess?” he asks after he’s been given a mug of hot tea to drink and a spot next to his host on the bed to sit.

“Basically, everything in your quest is more or less true, except I’m a prince,” the prince says. “And I’m on holiday. I was rescued a long time back by another prince, but sometimes I get tired of kingdom stuff so I come back here for a vacation.”

“Well, shit,” says Jongdae with feeling. He thought it’d be a good choice, going to a tower, rescuing a princess, returning to his village rich and maybe with a title. What’s he going to tell his parents now? He’s running low on supplies, so he can’t just journey across the land looking for another princess trapped in a tower. Although, going back home to yell at Baekhyun for not doing his research properly does sound like an interesting option.

“Tell me about yourself.” At Jongdae’s raised eyebrow, the prince explains, “it’s peaceful and all but it gets boring. Entertain me.” He lies back princely-ly on the bed and raises one pale, slim arm, motioning for Jongdae to begin his tale.

“Okay, but your name first, princess.”

“I will kill you in your sleep,” replies the prince. “Oh Sehun. Now what is yours?”

Jongdae talks about how his family has been struggling in their village ever since Jongdeok left to get married. He talks about training to be a minstrel and then a blacksmith, because being a minstrel doesn’t bring in the coins as much as a solid vocation like smithing does. Talks about his minor adventures on this last shot at a big break, about the armadillo he accidentally kicked over a tree, about the fairy who’d gotten stuck in a flower, about the witch he’d given half his supplies to.

“Fine,” says Prince Sehun after he runs out of words and tea. “You can rescue me. Again. Claim your reward and such and help other people.”

“You don’t mean it.”

“No, no, do you know how many people want to rescue me and my fantastic body?” the prince asks, gesturing at his lean self. Jongdae looks, because, well, and shrugs. It’s a nice body. Kind of pasty in the moonlight, but it’s nice. The prince has kind of an elvish vibe to him; he’s not pretty per se, but Jongdae can see how he can attract certain, uhm, people. “I get at least three people every holiday. No peace. I turn them all away and they just give up.”

“But I was persistent!”

“Stubborn as a mule,” nods the prince. “And you disgusted me with your discussion about your privates.”

“Ha.” Jongdae rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was desperate.”

“Mmhmm.”

“So... When do you wanna leave?”

The prince looks at him. “You know when.”

Jongdae sighs. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry for forgetting our anniversary. It’s just that—never mind, it’s my fault; I should have remembered. I’m sorry.”

Smiling, his prince sits up and takes his hand. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Is Baekhyun okay?”

“Yeah, he’s in the stables with Chanyeol. Gave the groom a basket of apples and carrots to keep them happy. You? You haven’t been back here in years, not since we left it the first time.”

“I don’t want to be King,” Sehun groans, his head dropping onto Jongdae’s shoulder.

“You’ve been training for it your whole adult life, Hun, you’ll be fine.” Jongdae gives his husband a hug, breathing in the woodsy smell of his soap. He looks around at the room. It’s stayed mostly the same since it was abandoned all that time ago, if you discount the rather large suitcase on the desk. “We have advisors and everything.”

“Hmm.” Sehun kisses his neck and stays in the hug for a while longer. Jongdae holds him tight; he’s missed the feeling of Sehun pressed against him. “Okay. But on another matter, was your private situation real? Because it’s been a week.”

“Hey, I’m not the sprightly youth I was when I met you,” says Jongdae defensively, pulling away from his prince. So it’s been ten years and he’s a little out of shape at thirty years of age. A week is still good time. “Anyway, my privates are fine. Slightly chafed, that’s all.”

“I can help with that.”

 

* * *

 

**5\. leverage au**

“Why do we even need codenames? We’ve never used codenames,” Sehun grumbles for the umpteenth time, crossing his arms. He sits down on the sofa, the brown leather moulding to his back like butter.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like your name,” says Jongin, lounging in the armchair opposite. “And you know why we need codenames for this case. Junmyeon—pardon me, Suho—will make you sit this one out if he hears you complaining.”

“It’s unfair!”

Kyungsoo looks up from his tablet and sighs. “It is a pretty shit codename.”

“See!” Sehun pouts. “Even D.O agrees.”

Their techie gives him a dead-eyed stare. “Shit name or not, I will put you in a chokehold if I hear one more fucking word about it.” He dumps the tablet into his backpack along with some wires and heads upstairs.

Sehun waits ten seconds before he starts whining again. “Even Zitao has a better name,” he points out. “He’s just Tao. Luhan is Luhan. Why am I ‘The Noodle’? What kind of codename is that?”

“You’re long and thin and white like a noodle.” Jongin shrugs. “The question is, what _kind_ of noodle are you?”

Of course he’s not complaining, his codename is Kai. Attractive, mysterious even, like the grifter he is.

“I want to say udon, but our Hunhun is skinnier than that,” says Jongdae with a bright smile. He’s just slipped out of the conference room at the back of the apartment, where the primary crew is drawing up the details of the main plan to take down a corrupt CEO. His beanie is a dark navy, which matches his twinkling brown eyes really nicely. (Not that Sehun’s paying a lot of attention to Jongdae’s eyes and how they wrinkle at the corners when he smiles or laughs. Just FYI, his eyes wrinkle in a different way when he’s in front of a mark, the angles are distinctively different.)

“I was thinking pho, because Sehun’s quite, you know…” Grinning, Jongin puts his palms together. “Quite flat.”

Sehun huffs. “I have a butt.”

“It’s a flat butt. If it were any flatter, it would be concave. See, it’d turn inwards like this—”

“Jongin, why don’t you go tell Kyungsoo that we’ll need him down in about half an hour to run through the building’s security features,” Jongdae interrupts with a laugh. He grabs a bottle of orange juice and sits down on the sofa next to the thief.

He smells like whiteboard markers and ginger and jasmine.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“My codename is stupid.”

“Well, if you look on the bright side of things,” Jongdae says, patting his knee, “it’s only for this one job.”

Sehun groans. “C’mon, I’ll be called ‘The Noodle’ for as long as I’m in this crew. It’ll last way past this stupid job. And your name is ‘The Lightning Thief’, for fuck’s sake.”

Jongdae sighs happily. “It is such a great name, isn’t it?”

It is, but it isn’t making Sehun feel any better so Jongdae can go on smelling like shitty markers and his organic handmade bar of soap (not that Sehun has ever poked through his bathroom supplies intentionally, it’s just that there are only three bathrooms in the place and there are twelve of them so the odds are stacked in the thief’s favour) while Sehun moans about being called ‘The Noodle’ for the rest of his professional criminal life. He bends forward and smacks his palms into his face.

Beside him, Jongdae stands, probably to rejoin the meeting and to get away from his whiny crewmember.

Sehun freezes when soft lips press against the top of his forehead.

“What?”

“Cheer up,” Jongdae chirps, already walking away. He takes a sip of his juice. His lips look sticky and shiny. “You’re ‘The Noodle’, deal with it.”

The younger thief blinks.

“Noodles are long, pale, delicious, and can fit into tight spaces, like holes. You’re not a noodle, you’re ‘The Noodle’, so that makes you the king of tight holes.”

With a wink, Jongdae disappears into the conference room.

 

* * *

 

**6\. established relationship au: angst & hurt/comfort edition**

Jongdae didn’t kiss him goodbye.

He didn’t kiss him good morning either, but that doesn’t hurt as much as the absence of a goodbye kiss. Sometimes Jongdae forgets the good morning kiss, sometimes he has to rush for work, so it doesn’t really matter. But he always, _always_ , kisses Sehun goodbye.

He continues with the dishes, feeling a little numb inside. It should be a small thing, this not-kissing. Couples fight, and when they fight, they don’t kiss each other, right? And they had fought that morning. They’d fought last night too, after Sehun had opened his big mouth and basically undermined their relationship.

 _I like you_ , he’d mumbled.

 _Oh, you_ like _me_ , Jongdae had laughed. _Just not enough not to flirt with other people while we’re out on a date._

_I was drunk, you’re being too insecure, we haven’t talked about being serious anyway._

Jongdae had slammed the door shut and gone to bed alone.

The water overflows and splashes onto his feet. Sehun hisses at the cold temperature and the soggy feeling of wet bedroom slippers on his skin. He turns off the water and drains the sink, kicking off the slippers before rinsing the last two plates and putting them away. The rest of the chores are finished in much the same way, with a frown in between his eyebrows and a cold, wet feeling in his belly.

 _Will you b home 4 dinner?_ he texts.

A minute later, the reply comes. _Yes._

No _XOXO_ , no _love you, see you soon!_ , no heart emojis, no smiley faces.

 _Ok_ , he types.

He goes grocery shopping. The supermarket, as usual, is tuned to the local radio station. Jongdae’s show is on. Kyungsoo’s talking about an item he saw on the news, asking Jongdae for his input. Their low, soothing voices chatter on and on. Jongdae laughs.

Sehun pauses in front of the bread section and imagines how his face would look like. Wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, perhaps his dimples would be showing. He’d cover a portion of his mouth with the back of his hand, he’d lean away from the microphone, careful of subjecting their listeners to his dinosaur-like bursts of laughter.

_I like your laugh._

_You don’t have to butter me up, I’m already in your bed._

_I do. It’s cute._

“Excuse me, would you like to try this new wholegrain bread we’ve got?” the promoter says, thrusting a sample at him.

Sehun takes two loaves.

He wanders around, checking his list periodically. He gets Jongdae’s favourite chocolates, the salt and pepper chips that they both like, some guacamole, some salsa dip. He remembers to get Jongdae’s moisturizer, his shampoo, and batteries for his razor. Dishwashing liquid. Laundry detergent, the lavender kind, not the citrus.

On the way back home, he stops by a flower shop.

_Don’t ever get me flowers._

_Why not?_

_They always go to waste, you know. You put them in a vase and they almost always die within a week. It’s cruel._

He moves on, gets Chinese takeout for lunch, and heads back to the apartment to catch up on some work. Saturdays are for lying in, for lazy brunches before Jongdae kisses him goodbye for his shift at the station.

Sehun rubs his cheek. It feels oddly cold. He buries himself in reports.

 _Coming home soon_ , the message on his phone says, five hours later.

 _Ok_ , he replies.

He calls the Thai place down the road for some takeout. By the time he’s gotten dinner ready and set the table, the door opens, and Jongdae steps into their apartment.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles, dropping his backpack onto the sofa. “You c’n go ahead and eat first.”

Sehun waits.

“I’m sorry,” he says, when Jongdae comes out of the shower. He holds out the pot of basil. “I don’t like you, I mean, I don’t just like you, I missed you, I—”

Jongdae shakes his head and crosses the short distance from the bathroom to the kitchen. _Their_ bathroom, _their_ kitchen; how could Sehun have been so silly? He wraps his arms around Sehun, his wet hair pressing against Sehun’s neck; droplets of water spiral down the younger man’s skin.

“You’re crushing the basil.”

“Be quiet for a moment,” scolds Jongdae, but he lets go, and finally, finally, goes up on his tiptoes to kiss Sehun on the cheek. “I missed you too.” His smile falters, and then picks up again, over-bright, as he takes the pot from Sehun’s hands. “Thank you for not getting me flowers.”

It’s not only the kiss Sehun’s been waiting for, he realizes, as Jongdae puts the pot away and goes to put on some clothes. Something else is missing. He doesn’t ask, because he doesn’t have the right, he feels, so he keeps quiet through dinner, through dessert. They laugh as they fight over the last bit of the mango sticky rice, and then they do the dishes together, Sehun’s slippers still a little damp from the morning’s mishap.

It’s still missing when they go to bed, when they kiss goodnight, when Jongdae is spooning Sehun.

He listens and waits, waits and listens, but there’s nothing from the man behind him.

Then:

“Stop thinking so loud, wanna sleep,” Jongdae murmurs.

“I love you,” Sehun says, and grips Jongdae’s hands tight in his when the other man tries to pull away. “I mean it. I was stupid for not knowing it sooner. For not saying it sooner. I don’t want to flirt with any other person except you. I more than like you, hyung. I love you.”

Jongdae unfreezes. “Okay.”

Sehun exhales.

“Okay.”

Inhale. Exhale. Sehun relaxes his hold and turns around to face his boyfriend.

Jongdae kisses him. “I love you too, you miserable ass.”

 

* * *

 

**7\. established relationship au: fluffy sick!fic edition**

When Sehun sees his boyfriend’s face screw up for the fifth time in a row, he sighs and puts down the newspaper.

“You’re not going to work, hyung,” he says, pushing the tissue box towards Jongdae.

The sniffling man coughs. “Actually, I hab to—”

“No, you don’t,” interrupts Sehun with a glare. “I’m going to help you call in sick, and then you’re going back to bed.”

“Bud I—”

“No.”

“There’s a proj—”

“Still no.”

“They really need—”

“Hyung, I will tie you to the bed if I have to.”

Jongdae waggles his eyebrows. “Well, thad could be arr—arr— _achoo_!” The sneeze tails into a tired groan. “You hab a good poind,” he grumbles into a tissue.

Despite Jongdae’s apparent surrender, it takes another five minutes of cajoling to get him in the shower. While Jongdae tries to sing through a clogged nose, Sehun calls the radio station and tells Kyungsoo that his partner won’t be coming in today. Jongdae soon emerges from the shower all warm and pink and wet, and Sehun passes on the ‘get well soon’ wishes from Kyungsoo and the rest before bundling his boyfriend into loose grey sweatpants and a cat jumper. He then sits Jongdae down on the edge of the bed and moves to sit behind him.

“You shouldn’t have washed your hair,” scolds Sehun, as he’s towelling the dark strands as best as he can. “Now I have to blow it dry.”

“I can thing of anoder thing you cad blow,” says Jongdae, smirking.

Sehun thwacks him with the towel and switches on the blowdryer.

After fifteen minutes, Jongdae is leaning lazily backwards, his head on Sehun’s shoulder as the younger man pets him like he’s a kitten. “You should go to work,” Jongdae mumbles, but doesn’t move to get off Sehun’s lap.

Humming deep in his throat, Sehun starts manoeuvring Jongdae until he’s tucked into the blankets. The curtains are drawn, the lights are off, and Sehun sets Jongdae’s phone to silent so that he won’t be disturbed by any of Baekhyun’s incessant messages.

“I’ll drop by during lunch,” Sehun whispers, nuzzling against Jongdae’s cheek.

In answer, Jongdae whines and tugs Sehun back down for a quick and sloppy kiss. “Shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbles sleepily. “Gon’ get you sick.”

“It’s okay.” Sehun really needs to leave if he wants to get to the office on time, but his hands hesitate to stop touching Jongdae. “I’ll be back to make us both chicken soup.”

“You’re shit at cooking.”

“Fine, I’ll go buy us some homemade chicken soup from somewhere. Tell you what, I’ll bribe Junmyeon to cook for us.”

Jongdae smiles. Even though he’s slightly flushed, the sickly kind of flush, he’s still the most beautiful person that Sehun’s ever seen. “You should go. I’ll be fine.”

Nodding, Sehun gets dressed to the soft sounds of Jongdae slowly falling asleep and picks up his briefcase. He lingers for a moment at the door, looking across their small apartment to the small figure in their bed, and says, “I love you,” quietly into the darkness.

Just as the door swings shut, he hears a raspy voice echo the same three words.

 

* * *

 

 

**8\. the mall santa au**

“Are you really Santa?” asks a little girl. Her pigtails swing to and fro as she peers at his beard, trying to look for a gap between the cotton wool contraption and his shaven chin.

“Are you one of the bad children?” Sehun retorts gruffly, his head jerking to one side when she looks like she’s about to pull on his beard. “It’s like the song, you know the one.”

The girl gives him an impish grin. “Which one?”

“You know.”

“Noooo,” the tiny witch drawls, “I can’t ‘member.”

Her parents coo and take pictures of her making faces at him.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping,” comes a melodious voice behind them. “He knows when you’re awake.”

The little girl claps in appreciation as Jongdae peeps out from behind the chair. Sehun glances down at his elf and smiles into his scratchy cheap chin wig. Jongdae is dressed like all the other elves in the mall, in a short green tunic and striped leggings, but no other elf can pull off the look quite as well, even Jongin.

Sehun might be a little biased, but it is a truth universally acknowledged that Kim Jongdae has the best butt in all of the North Pole.

“He knows if you’ve been good or bad, so be good for goodness’ sake!” Jongdae brightly sings, handing the girl a lollipop.

The camera flash goes off; Sehun hopes his eyes don’t betray how incredibly fond he feels as Jongdae leans in for a kiss on the cheek. “Ahem,” he coughs, catching sight of the line of impatient children in front of him. “Now, what would you like for Christmas, er—“

“M’name’s Emmy,” the girl says shyly, using her lollipop to hide from Jongdae’s beaming smile. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her lips can’t stop twitching in the way Sehun’s can’t whenever Jongdae’s around. “I wan’ a—a—kitty.”

 _Don’t we all_ , Sehun thinks absently, as the corners of Jongdae’s lips curl upwards.

There’s a tap on his shoulder, signalling Jongin with a kitty plushie wrapped in clear cellophane. Sehun ignores his friend’s raised eyebrows and hands the gift to the little girl. She immediately crushes the grey toy kitten to her chest.

“Kitty!” she squeals. After the mandatory picture, she scampers off of Sehun’s lap and runs to the opposite end of the stage to where Jongdae’s standing.

There’s a new kid on Sehun’s lap nattering on about the toy cars he wants for Christmas, but Santa’s attention is all on Jongdae and the girl.

“C’n you—c’n she have a kiss too?” the girl says, holding up the kitty.

Jongdae laughs. “Sure,” he replies, pressing his lips to the cellophane wrapping. It makes a crinkly sound. “And she can have a lollipop too.”

The camera flashes are furiously going off at this point, and the boy in Sehun’s lap is getting annoyed that all the attention has shifted from him to the girl and the elf. Sehun continues to tune out his loud chatter, only glancing down for a moment to hand him his present before looking back over at the two at the side of the stage.

“Thank you,” the girl whispers, going on tiptoe to kiss Jongdae’s cheek. Again.

The entire crowd _awwww_ s. A few mothers sniffle. More cameras flash. Sehun bites his lip and wishes for his shift to be over so that he can drag Jongdae backstage.

He chokes as the next kid accidentally knees him in the balls.

 

—

 

“Poor Santa, baby,” murmurs Jongdae. He’s curled up beside Sehun on their sofa, the golden light from their Christmas tree casting a lovely glow on his cheekbones. Pausing to leave a hickey in the crook of his boyfriend’s pale neck, he croons, “Let me make it better,” eyes shuttered, and dips his fingers below the waistband of Sehun’s red sweatpants.

 

* * *

 

**9\. the werewolf/vampire sekaichen au**

Jongdae’s pack is warm and fuzzy and ridiculous. There’s Kris, who’s large and powerful in both wolf and human form, but who goes all soft and funny when faced with the possibility of ice cream on a hot day. There’s Luhan, probably the most beautiful of them all with his deer-like brown fur with delicate white spots, who spends most of his time as a wolf looking for reflective surfaces and preening. Minseok is fast and agile but looks like a squirrel as a human and an overlarge puppy as a wolf. Yixing is a vegetarian wolf. Their youngest, Tao, makes the worst sound effects whenever they go out hunting.

Jongdae himself is the smallest wolf in the pack and likes to sing to the moon, full or otherwise.

They live in a house at the edge of town, close to the forest where they run. At home, Minseok takes charge most of the time. He makes sure everyone keeps their rooms clean, whereas Jongdae fusses over cooking for six temperamental werewolves. In the forest, everyone is pretty equal, although they tend to look to Kris for direction, and he’s usually the one to step in whenever there’s a squabble.

It’s therefore Kris that shoulders Tao away to face the strangers, wolf to vampire.

In the middle, beside Minseok, Jongdae shivers in the cold tension of the night. He feels like shaking out his coat, but that would show weakness when everyone’s so still; instead, he snorts quietly to himself and glances up at the moon. Minseok shifts ever so slightly to press his left flank against Jongdae’s side.

There are six vampires. If things come to a head, they could probably chase the creatures off. Or at least defend a portion of their forest. The leader is speaking quietly to Kris; he looks young for an ancient being, short, with brown hair and an earnest expression on his pale face. Behind him is a short vampire, about Jongdae’s human height perhaps, with the most uninterested look on his face. He radiates quiet danger. There is a smiling one who’s pointing at Tao and saying how cute he is to the tallest of the lot. The final two are tall as well, one unexpectedly tanned for a vampire, and the other as white as snow.

They’re staring at Jongdae.

 

—

 

Jongdae runs. The wind tonight is warm and the air smells of salt. The moon is half-full, half-hidden by clouds, a shy audience to his pants and occasional howls.

It’s one of those nights. The rest of his pack members are at the house, chilling over beer and cable TV with the vamps. Tao has these nights too, although his need to run and chase and hunt is currently much stronger than Jongdae’s; the smaller wolf’s maturation phase is tailing off, but he still enjoys the wind in his ears, the smells on the wind, and the crush of leaves under his paws.

It doesn’t hurt that his motivation to catch prey has evolved from mere hunger.

Or, at least, the same kind of hunger.

He pounces on the flash of silver that appears in front of him, shifting midway through the jump as he tackles the vampire into the middle of a clearing. The two roll and tumble in the underbrush, Jongdae squirming as his overheated skin presses against a cool body.

“Having fun?” an icy voice drawls from above them.

The tanned vampire sits up against a tree trunk. Unhappy with the loss of touch, Jongdae whines as loudly as he can. He feels Jongin’s hand thread through his hair and wriggles closer for a proper petting. Opening an eye, he sees Sehun lounging on a carpet of moss.

The pale vampire raises an eyebrow.

Jongdae huffs.

Jongin throws a rock at their boyfriend.

Sehun catches it and raises the other eyebrow.

“Just c’mere,” Jongdae says, closing his eyes.

A heartbeat later, he’s sprawled over both their laps, Jongin’s hands in his wild hair and Sehun’s palms smoothing over the scratches on his calves. He used to feel awkward shifting back into his naked human form after a run, but now it’s as easy as pie, baring himself to the two vampires like this. Either one of them always brings a blanket or something anyway; just as the wind turns cool, Sehun takes off his long jacket and drapes it over Jongdae.

After a while, the fire burns, aches in his veins, and soon Jongdae’s restless, tired of being tired and lazing around. He shrugs off the jacket and tosses it back to Sehun, who smirks and stares unabashedly at Jongdae’s body.

“Ready for round two?” Jongin asks, ruffling Jongdae’s hair.

The wolf yawns and stretches. “Three,” he whispers, pecking Jongin’s cheek; “two,” he says, kissing his own fingertips, then pressing them hard on Sehun’s thin lip; “one,” he groans, and shifts back down.

Jongdae runs.

 

* * *

 

**10\. MAMA powers au**

Jongdae’s hips jerk upwards and forwards, before sinking back down into the mattress. His eyes are shut, long eyelashes fluttering against his dark circles. His hair sticks to his forehead, his ears are tinged pink, and his bruised mouth is slick and wet. He’s trembling with anticipation, the shudders running down his body like a current.

Sehun slows down, kisses down the plane of Jongdae’s inner thigh from his knobbly knee down and down and down, until Jongdae’s cloth-covered cock is pressed against his left cheek. He bends his head to taste the salt on Jongdae’s skin. It’s awkward, him hunched over like this, the bulge in his boyfriend’s underpants brushing his chin, his throat every time he moves to kiss a different area. But Sehun bears the slight strain in his back; he holds down Jongdae’s hips with cool, firm hands, brushes his thumbs against the bone. He licks, sucks, nibbles his way across Jongdae’s pelvis, never going lower to where Jongdae really wants his mouth to go.

“Please, Sehun,” Jongdae whispers, voice cracking in the middle. “I can’t—”

Sehun hums into the spot just below Jongdae’s bellybutton. Outside, the wind howls, whips itself into a frenzy. But inside, Sehun is calm and quiet as he continues to take his boyfriend apart.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning lights up the hotel room, and in that same instant, Sehun finds himself being pressed into the mattress. There’s a dull clink; his belt is thrown halfway across the room. Jongdae’s eyes are silver in the darkness as he straddles Sehun’s midsection, crumpling his shirt to oblivion. He’s beautiful, dangerous, electric; a thin layer of sweat covering his body. His muscles flex as he grinds roughly down into Sehun’s groin. The thunder pounds the sky, deep bass booms that seem to rumble in Sehun’s bones.

It’s not enough and too much at the same time. Sehun grunts as Jongdae tugs his cock out of his trousers without missing a beat.

It begins as a tingle on his bottom lip. Jongdae is a biter. He’s brutal in his quest to claim Sehun’s gasps and moans for his own. He sucks hard at the thin skin behind Sehun’s ear; it feels as if a spark has gone off in that same area. Jongdae twists his wrist, sharp but gentle, and Sehun loses track after that.

“You like that, huh?” Jongdae says, laughing breathlessly, when Sehun devolves into pathetic whines for _more, again, please_.

The wind shrieks in reply.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is appreciated! also feel free to guess which one is my personal favourite! let me know which one hit the spot for you!


End file.
